The Jump

December 20, 2011
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I’m tired but I know I won’t sleep for hours. It just occurred to me how high up I am. I bet if I fell I’d die. Is that bad to think about? I guess it doesn’t matter much. What I am really focused on art the tiny cars driving below. Most of them are bright yellow taxis. I don’t know why, but I constantly watch these cars and the pin sized people. I have to wonder about them.

Who are they? Where are they from? Why are they here? Where are they going? When where they last upset? What is their biggest regret? What secrets do they hide? Will they be alive a year from now? Ten years from now? Will they ever make a difference in my life? In the lives of each other?

I guess when you think about it, none of it matters. From up here, on this rooftop, none of this matters. Not when you watch the world.

It only matters when you jump.

I linger on the edge of the roof, debating on if I am reading to jump.

It only matters if you jump.

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